


Jaded Lights Shine Brighter With You

by orphan_account



Category: cryaotic, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Adulthood, F/M, Friendship, Growing Up, Other, Romance, adult, non-binary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 13:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10640667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ryan Sterling is your above-average guy. Nearly 30, single, and popular on YouTube as Cryaotic. When he was 28, he met a mysterious person on his livestream, inebriated and yet still remembering it vividly and wishing every day to meet them.Rey Carson is less-average. A non-binary 28 year old, holding a job in Universal Pictures as a lead animator, who frequently wears pastels. They have been a fan of Cry's since the beginning, and wish only to meet him.In a turn of events, Rey manages to move in directly next to Cry, and when realizing who they are, a mutual friendship ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would really appreciate criticism since I am only 17 years old ^^' feel free to have positive or negative feedback!

It was that stream I first heard them. Mid 2017, probably somewhere in July. We were all streaming and Russ had decided to call one of the phone numbers that had appeared in chat, jokingly suggesting that it was someone's mom or something.  
"I hope that this'll be like–you know those numbers you find in bathroom stalls?" Russ chuckled, typing the digits into his phone. I chortled back and nodded behind my screen.  
"Dude, aren't those usually, like, pizza places? Or like some sweet old lady?" A silence drifted between us all before an orgy of laughter broke out between Russ, Cheyenne, Scott, and I. Snake was resilient to the laughter, but added in a small chuckle.  
"What numbers are you finding and calling dude?" Scott nearly began crying from the sheer amount of gut-wrenching laughter. I tried to add in again, though stumbling on my words.  
"Y'know dude, like the guys who'll just be there and pizza place numbers and put them in bathroom stalls." Russ laughed, eventually hitting call on the cell phone, hushing us. The person answered, and I remember being pleasantly surprised. The voice was quaint, feminine, though not inherently girly.  
"Oh my god, I didn't think you'd actually call me!" The person exclaimed, nervously laughing. Russ spoke, and even through his words I could tell he was smiling.  
"You're lucky caller number 36, welcome to the Russ Show!" He joked, emphasizing the radio character to the point it was totally butchered.  
"Haha! Well, thank you!" They held a kind of innocence in their voice, as though they were almost dared to do this. Finally I decided to chime in, wanting to join into the teasing.  
"So, what kind of fun did you have in mind?" My voice lowered and I could tell Cheyenne was not impressed with the sexy voice. On the other hand, the caller seemed to fan-girl over that very aspect.  
"Nothing," They were flustered, so nervous and almost coy. "This was actually my roommates idea. He wanted to see if you guys would actually call me." It then bubbled into my mind to ask.  
"Wait, how old are you? Are you in college or something?" Russ joined in.  
"Yeah you sound super young. Like fourteen year old young." I don't know what it was about that comment. Probably a mixture of terrible humor and my drunken state that made me think it was really funny. The flustered person began laughing too.  
"I'm 24, 25 next week." They paused, seemingly talking to someone behind the scenes. I felt a wave of flirtation seem to wash over me, drawing out any hint of interest in Chey at the time. I was probably sounding like an asshole, but I was drunk.  
"Oh, so you're young, and you sound cute." My friends laughed at me, but in my mind, I was determined to show this person as much affection as possible. I was a drunken cat, stumbling to land on my feet. I began asking this person if they live in Florida, but they denied, stating their college was in California.  
"Oh? So what's your major?" I spoke with relative slurring.  
"Character Animation," they chimed, emphasizing their happiness in their position, "I go to CalArts." We sat, flabbergasted by this tiny college student, who was probably a master of movies and cartoons.  
As the moon rose closer to 1:30, I heard the college student begin yawning, and Russ told them that they should probably go. I wanted so badly to ask them for their name, but the student logged out of chat to sleep.  
But I still remember, their final message in chat.

(RustyChild92): It was a pleasure speaking to you all. Especially you Cry. <3

And that's how I, drunk, unrealistic, and childish, found the person whose life I was going to change.


	2. Chapter 2

I stare at my computer screen as I wait for my newest video to upload. "Cry Plays:Karen LeFou [P1]". Such a professional name, I know. I don't like jazzing up the titles as clickbait, because I feel like it wouldn't be as genuine then. Then it'd feel like people would only watch me because they think I'm a Pewdiepie or Markiplier clone.  
Speaking of clickbait, it feels like forever since I did anything with Mark or Felix. We still talk, through Skype and private messages, but I guess our humors have just never really been very similar, not really allowing for popular collabs. I shrug, though still a bit unsatisfied with that fact, and stare back at my cat, who has moved to the window, staring intensely at something outside. I stand from my swivel chair, and look outside with him, exposing my thin layer of stubble and messy brown hair to the world. I peer through my glasses, adjusting to the sun as a large truck pulled up to the house next to mine. I guess that its finally been sold; that house had been up for sale for a while, and is starting to look as though ghosts had started inhabiting it. Through the glass I could see a petite person in a green hoodie and black pants, unloading their stuff.  
You should see if they need help, I think to myself, looking down at my clothes, and realizing I was still in my pajamas. I think over the options of what could happen if I didn't. Nothing to lose, maybe a new friend to be made? I was slightly acquainted with my other neighbors, but none were close enough in age to me, or understood my profession, so there wasn't much to talk about, other than beer, weather, and the 90's. With a very audible sigh of frustration after giving into my own demands of needing to put on real clothes anyway, I change out of a pair of sweat pants and a plain black shirt into a different black shirt and blue jeans. I begin rushing out the door in the hopes of getting there in time to help them.  
Thankfully my new neighbor is still unloading, their hood hiding most of their face as the boxes weigh them down. They were definitely close in age, though they might just be a mover.  
"Hey neighbor! Do you want some help?" As the words exit my mouth, the person freezes, and I see them begin trembling furiously. I quickly step over to them, assuming the box is really heavy, and they're just out of breath.  
"I'll take this inside, okay?" I smile at them, trying to look under their hood, though they nod very quickly, and rush back to the moving truck and start reaching for another box.  
As I look inside the house, I notice the sky blue walls. They're nice, and almost real. I set the box down by several other ones in the living room, where two beefy men sat on the couch, laughing about something. Heading outside for another box, the unidentified person now has their hood down, revealing a very pink face, circle glasses on the bridge of their nose, and their rusty hair glitters from sweat in the humid air. They sit on the back of the truck taking a break, I'm guessing. I decide to sit next to them, and they are quick to put their hood back on. I chuckle at their coy nature, but I can understand it.  
"I'm guessing you don't like people much." I look over at them, sitting a few inches taller than them. I cock my head and smile, complimenting their wavy red hair, and receiving only a flushed face as a response. There were a few more minutes of me trying to make pleasant small talk, which I'm absolutely terrible at, before I help moving the rest of the boxes.  
Maybe they're mute, I think to myself, thus explaining their inability or disregard for responding. I set down the remaining boxes in the living room, and before deciding to head home, the pink faced person spoke. Their voice is clear and recognizable, shocking me almost instantly.  
"Thank you, I really appreciate this." they beam, bringing down their hood, and allowing me to fully see their soft features.  
I chuckle, and look them up and down. They're no taller than 5 foot 3 inches, and their brown eyes shine with the sort of adult innocence you rarely find now. I smile back, offering them a drink.  
"No thanks, I don't really like beer," they respond.  
"Neither do I. Maybe we can hang out at a bar and get some fruity girl drinks?" I want to spend more time with this person, because I remember their voice, wanting desperately to remember who they are. They consider my offer for a few more seconds before smirking and agreeing. I shake their hand, and ask their name before heading home.  
"Rey," they respond softly. "My name is Rey."  
"Well, Rey. May I ask your pronouns as well?" Not as smooth as I could be, but I needed to know sooner or later, since they dressed so... androgynously.  
"They, them, and theirs, please." They seem oddly pleased by the fact I asked. I was glad to accommodate every LGBTQIA person I know, and Rey isn't an exception.


End file.
